Bad Days
by DragonWinglet
Summary: Robin had a bad day - though no one knows. So as he's imitating a pillow in his room, an unexpected source of comfort comes. He's poked until he admits what's wrong and then decides to punch things. I wrote this because I had a shitty day. It's also shitty. Sue me. Rated for curse words. But most of them are said by me in the author's note. Eh.
**(A/N): I had a really bad day. I did the same thing Robin did. Walked into my room and faceplanted into my bed. Unfortunately, I don't have a friend with superhearing to poke me until I smile again.**

 **I wrote this. Here you go. I no own. Damn.**

Honestly, when the young acrobat hadn't shown up at the time he usually skipped into the room with a wide smile on his face and hair windblown, the rest of his team should have known something was wrong. But the resident speedster had just acquired a new video game, and sat with a controller glued to his hand with the Boy of Steel staring – and grumbling – over his shoulder. M'gann sat as Artemis and Kaldur attempted to explain trigonometry to her. It was a concept hard enough to understand in one language, and she felt that it was ridiculous to attempt it in a different way and language completely.

No one noticed when the small acrobat trudged silently through the common area. He was still in his civvies, but his hair was no longer slicked back as it always was when he was acting as the rich ward to Wayne. Instead, it showed evidence of having a hand run through it repeatedly, sticking up in odd angles. His dark glasses were the only thing that didn't look disheveled, in fact. He looked almost as if he was marching to a funeral as he walked. He remained unnoticed even to the point he exited the room.

Wally was the first to notice something off. He and Robin hung out at the cave most weekends, the former enjoying the escape from his family, the latter taking a break from the large mansion and brooding guardian. At this point on a Friday – seven in the evening – the younger boy was _always_ there. His curious glanced got Conner's attention – or maybe it was the fact that he'd paused the game. He wasn't quite sure.

"Wally?" he asked, looking for a possible threat. The speedster put down the controller and stood.

"Do you know where Rob is, Kaldur?" he called, and Conner raised an eyebrow. The atlantian looked up from where his gaze was focused on the papers in front of him.

"I had thought he was in there. I apologize for not being more attentive. This math is… more frustrating that I'd expected." Wally's eyebrows furrowed as Artemis nodded. Instead of questioning them further, he removed the phone from his pocket, flicking on the screen. No texts from 'Best Bro', the name he'd put Robin's contact under in his phone. Names were complicated when your best friend had two of them.

"Supes, do you know if he's here?" the words were out of his mouth before he turned around, and when he did, there was no Superboy. Wally hummed once, then walked to where M'gann sat.

"I'm pretty good at science. Maybe I can translate it to math." Whatever Robin was doing, it had to be important – probably dynamic duo stuff in Gotham.

Conner knocked lightly on Robin's door, hoping not to surprise the boy wonder. There was a muffled call of something that he knew was 'go away' but he didn't listen. He could explain it away by saying that he didn't hear him.

The door opened to reveal Robin face down on his bed. He didn't move when the door opened, but he _did_ heave a rather dramatic sigh. Conner stood awkwardly by the door, unsure what to do.

"Wally was looking for you." The smaller boy heaved another sigh, and mumbled something else.

"Good fer hm." Sighing, Conner stepped further into the room.

"Robin." That generally worked for Batman, when he wanted Robin to tell him something, so Conner tried it out.

It didn't work.

Well, it kind of did. It led the acrobat to raise his face. Unfortunately, he was only raising his face in order to glare at him. He now understood what Wally meant when he talked about the famed Batglare.

The clone shifted uncomfortably under the gaze. His eyes were still hidden behind his glasses, but it detracted nothing from the glare. Conner didn't allow it to deter him. He instead walked until he sat next to Robin.

"You're not going to leave me alone, are you?" Robin asked, giving in much faster than he would on any other day – another sign that something was off. Conner just shook his head, and Robin shrugged, allowing his face to fall onto the bed again.

"What's wrong?" The question was less of a question and more of a statement, and Robin grumbled for a moment at the monotone inflection.

"I don' wanna talk about it," he said, only halfway lifting his head. Conner sighed and poked him in the back of the neck.

"Robin." It hadn't worked last time but this time, the boy lifted his head and stared steadily at the clone.

"Conner." Their eyes met as well as they could, and Robin sighed in defeat. "Ugh. I had a hard day." He shrug as best he could, laying on his stomach, and with a 'poomph', he let his face hit the comforter again. Conner poked him again. This time he swiped at his hand. Conner was shocked when he missed.

"C'mon," he prompted, crossing his arms.

"Fine. People are mean. Is that good? Do you want more? Do you want me to explain that people will call me a freak and make fun of the fact that my parents are dead? Do you need the details about how the shove me against walls, dump my lunches, treat me like trash? Or that I can't fight back because I can't make any connection with my identities?!" In an instant, he was standing, his voice going from defeated to angry. A finger was pointed at Conner's chest angrily, and he scowled. The clone was amazed to see the frustrated tears falling from below his glasses.

He scowled until he realized what he'd said.

"Uhm… Maybe… don't mention any of that?" he said. Conner nodded, looking confused but having the good sense not to ask about it.

Well, about most of it.

"Your parents…?" he allowed himself to trail off, letting the boy wonder fill in the blanks.

"They…" he paused and made a noise of frustration, then sighed, swiping angrily at the tears that were still on his cheeks. "They were murdered. Long time ago. Long story. Also a secret one. So maybe, let's not talk about it?" he said, crossing his arms. Conner nodded.

"Want to go punch something?" he asked instead. Robin's frustration disappeared into relief.

"Oh hell yes."

 **Lame ending is lame. Ah well. I had a shitty day so I don't give a fuck. Here you go.**


End file.
